Meet Melody Ellison, a 9-year-old African-American girl who loves gardening, singing in the church choir, and listening to Motown music. Her story, No Ordinary Sound, is set in 1960s Detroit during the height of the Civil Rights movement. Inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s speeches about equality, American Girl’s newest BeForever™ character picks “Lift Every Voice and Sing” for her very first solo performance. Change is in the air, and when the unspeakable happens in the Deep South, Melody’s voice is silenced. Can she recover it before her upcoming solo? Enter the book giveaway at the end of this blog post, and be among first to find out!
Most girls choose dolls that look like them. They want dolls that spark their imagination and inspire them in some way. Melody and I aren’t twinsies, but then again, I didn’t look like my beloved clothespin doll (Miss No Name), either. But we share the same name, and our stories are similar. Best of all, Melody Ellison’s built for adventures, just like me.
She arrived in her “meet” dress, accessorized here with a pillbox hat, cat-eye sunglasses, and a patent leather handbag.* Motown all the way, but ready for her adventures in La La Land.
We took a quick tour of my backyard first, because that’s what gardeners do. So flattering, the California sunshine on her beautiful hair and skin! I tucked some flowers into her handbag and then we headed to the beach.
Lovely view, don’t you think?
Melody opted quickly for a more casual look, ditching the handbag and slipping out of her patent leather flats.
#CaliforniaDreaming
She scrambled up the lifeguard stand…
…and splashed in frothy waves.**
Salty breezes tousled her hair, and her sunglasses slipped down her nose.
We explored the tide pools together, collecting sea glass and ocean-smoothed rocks.
Then we leaned against this outcropping, watching the surfers and listening to the seagulls.
Melody didn’t bring a beach hat, but she protected her curls with this fetching little number. A passerby pivoted, called over his shoulder: “Hey, isn’t that the doll I saw on the news? She smiled and waved, like the celebrity she is.
It was a memorable day, start to finish–lots to write and talk about when we got home!
We had so much fun on our beach adventure, and I can’t help but think that girls of all ages will fall in love with Melody Ellison.
Kudos to American Girl for designing this beautiful doll, who reflects so well the changing face of history. Author Denise Lewis Patrick should be congratulated, as well, for adding No Ordinary Sound to the growing collection of diverse books. Melody isn’t just a doll–she’s a phenomenon. In lifting her voice for positive change, she’ll inspire girls of all ages to do the same.
*American Girl collaborated with a six-member advisory board that provided input on all aspects of Melody’s appearance and storyline, including her outfits, accessories, hairstyle, historical events and settings.
**Thanks to videos like this one, I knew ahead of time that American Girls don’t like to get drenched. Not to worry, though: If Melody gets water-damaged, the AG hospital can fix her up, good as new.
And now for the book giveaway contest! You have until Labor Day to enter–good luck!
I heard it through the grapevine, aka my Facebook feed:
American Girl has embraced Motown and civil-rights era Detroit with the release late this summer of a 9-year-old African-American doll and aspiring singer named Melody Ellison. —Detroit News
According to the official press release, Melody is “a singer and loves to perform in church, with her family, and in her community. Her stories are set against the backdrop of the civil rights movement, which was gathering momentum, and the music scene, including the success and popularity of Motown Records and its artists. She is inspired by Dr. King to have a dream of her own: to lift her voice for fairness and equality.” She chooses “Lift Every Voice and Sing” for an upcoming solo competition, but the book synopsis hints at an “unimaginable tragedy in the South that leaves Melody silent,” just before she’s set to perform.
Hashtag: #Want
I’d never played with an American Girl doll before, nor had I read any of their novels. But who could resist a storyline like this. Sure, it’s earmarked for Middle Grade readers, but I read it straight through and wanted more! That’s the thing about good storytelling, isn’t it? It broadens our perspectives, and rounds out our experiences in new and surprising ways.
We aren’t twinsies, of course, and I don’t lay claim to Melody’s story. But we do share the same name. And our experiences are somewhat similar. I emailed author Denise Lewis Patrick, to say as much:
My name is Melodye, and I just now came across your book, “No Ordinary Sound.” I’m truly fascinated by the parallels between Melody’s [story] and that of my own.
I was a child of the 60s who experienced the Civil Rights movement while criss-crossing the country with my father, a faith-healing, tent evangelist. [Like Melody], I lost my singing voice when racism touched my life; I recovered it just last February, when I sang onstage with the Harlem Gospel Choir.
I’m thrilled that American Girl’s giving voice to these important periods of time in our national history, and I look forward to watching them come alive again–in a positive, relatable way, for a new generation–through your words and the doll they’re introducing this summer. It’d be my pleasure to feature a Q & A with you on my blog, to introduce Melody on Facebook, and/or wherever…
Oh happy day, Denise agreed to join me in The Author’s Tent! The timing couldn’t be more perfect: Melody makes her grand debut today, as AG’s third African-American doll and newest character in their BeForever™ collection.
Without further ado, meet Melody and Denise:
In our Q & A, Denise talks with me about No Ordinary Sound, chats about her writerly life, and participates in the ever-popular Lightning Round.
No Ordinary Sound:
Melodye: Let’s start by pretending, for just a minute, that we’re doing a live interview via Twitter. Denise, would you please tweet a 140-character summary of No Ordinary Sound, followed by a second tweet that describes its audience?
Denise: Okay. This is hard! I am not really a Tweeter, but here are my attempts:
1) What does one community in 1960’s Detroit hear when Melody Ellison lifts her voice in the fight for justice? #NoOrdinarySound.
2) For everyone who hears the call for justice, and answers:#NoOrdinarySound. (The dedication for the book)
M: Did you work with a prototype doll for Melody? Or an outline, maybe, to help breathe life into her story?
D: I did create an outline for Melody’s story, which went through a few rounds with the AG editors, and then got tweaked as I fleshed out the story. My work always evolves as I write, so initial outlines change, too. The prototype came later.
M: While the novel itself is fiction, No Ordinary Sound is also based on actual events in American history. Please describe for us your research adventures, specific to this book. And a follow-up question, if I may: How much of Melody’s storyline comes of your personal observations and experiences?
D: I began by diving into background info provided by AG’s amazing research librarian. As the outline evolved, I could determine what additional sources I needed. One thing I love to work with in doing historical fiction is local newspapers from the period. That way I get a both a broad and a specific view of the community and what’s happening at the time. I could see which national events in the Civil Rights movement were impacting the city, and get a sense of how the black community was involved on a local basis in civil rights issues. I did a ride-around in Detroit with one of the members of our Advisory Board who grew up there. She another board member who’s a Detroit native gave me lots of anecdotal stuff that I could follow up on, like going to Detroit baseball games (I had to research teams and players).
I’d say that many of Melody’s family experiences mirror some of mine, in the way she is surrounded by extended family, the way they share a big meal once a week, the way they talk about justice and injustice as a matter of course. So what’s happening on the national stage is in the context of Melody’s understanding of the black experience. She has a strong sense of community, of connection and possibility. Although I grew up in the South, I was a girl in the 60’s, and that’s very much what I was like.
M: Though it’s set in the Civil Rights era, most aspects of this novel are timeless. What might readers find relatable – and surprising —about Melody’s story?
D: Relatable? Her friendships, the fact that she loves singing, but has shaky confidence in her own ability to take center stage. What might be surprising is Melody’s closeness with her older brother, Dwayne. She’s his biggest supporter in his dream to become a Motown star, so much so that she sort of stands up to their father—in a respectful way, of course. [M: Want to know more? Download your Reader’s Guide here.]
M: If Melody had an Instagram account, what kinds of things could you imagine she might post for her family, friends and fans?
D:She’d post hairstyles, pics of herself and her sisters and Val posing as the latest, hottest girl group, maybe close-ups of her prized flowers or veggies.
M: So cool, that Melody loves gardening, same as I do! I’m thinking she might also post pictures of her sweet terrier, Bo.
M: Are there any other Melody books available and/or planned for the future?
D: The second part of Melody’s story is Never Stop Singing—which takes her back to the family’s roots in Alabama, and deepens her understanding of social justice. It’s out this summer. Also coming up with the release—based on the characters but written by a different author, is Music In My Heart, a Journey with Melody. Readers get to choose how the story plays out. It’s really fun. And I think there’s a Melody mystery in the works, too.
M: You can read more about Melody’s story collection here.
Questions about Denise Lewis Patrick’s Writerly Life:
M: What’s your backstory, Denise, as an author who writes primarily for young readers?
D: My backstory is that I’m a Louisiana girl who graduated with a Journalism degree. I moved to New York to write for magazines, but ended up happily editing, then writing for kids. Along the way I got married and had a family of sons. We have a very lively house when they’re all together these days. I teach, garden kind of randomly, make cloth dolls, and write poetry. I went back to school a few years ago at the same time a couple of my sons were in college. Last December, I got my MFA degree in Creative Writing. I think what’s funny about my background is that many members of my family taught elementary and middle school, and now I write for the grandkids of their students!
M: What types of books resonated with you as a young girl? Were they recommended to you, or did you discover them on your own?
D: Oh, I loved some of the classics, like fairy tales and The Secret Garden. My grandmother (third grade teacher for 44 years) gave me the complete set of The Wizard of Oz books. I also loved/love A Wrinkle in Time, which instilled a lasting love of sci-fi in me. I found many books on my own at the library or through our Weekly Reader mail-order book club.
M: You’ve authored an impressive library of books. What can you tell us about your writing rituals and routines? What sparks your creativity, and what keeps you at the keyboard when your confidence falters or inspiration doesn’t come?
D:I admit that I don’t have a set routine. When I really get going on a project, though, I create a playlist to give me a vibe for the subject. For Melody, I found some of the songs that became popular during the marches and protests of the 50’s and 60’s. I did listen to a lot of Stevie Wonder, but much of it was from my college years in the 70’s.
I find inspiration just about anywhere. Ideas are sparked when I’m walking down the streets of New York or in a line at the bank, from snatches of conversation, or even from an unusual or interesting name.
When I hit a wall in thinking, I sometimes jump ahead in the story, maybe a few chapters. Sometimes that gives me clarity on how to get from point A to point B. I have discovered over my career—and my husband and sons will attest to this—that I work best under extreme pressure. What keeps me going when the going gets really tough is a deadline hovering over my head like an anvil from the old cartoons.
M: How and when did you get involved with the American Girls book series?
D: I got involved when I was asked to do the Cecile Rey character a few years ago (2012). Her story was set in New Orleans in 1853. The editor who called me had read my middle grade historical fiction novel, The Adventures of Midnight Son. I thought it was cool that my previous work sort of got me the job.
M:What writing project(s) are you working on right now?
D: I’m revising a middle grade fantasy novel and working on some short stories that might be Y/A or adult. But I’ve been spending some time with my family and have a new idea for a totally different short story collection, so I’ll probably be working on all of this at once. Then I have to choose what to focus on after I begin teaching in the fall.
LIGHTNING ROUND:
M: Just for fun, but loosely based on your bio! A single word will do, but feel free to elaborate as you wish.
Backyard gardening or nature hikes—or a little of both? Gardening!
Argo Starched laundry or fresh-from-the-dryer? Argo!
Irish brogue or Southern accent? Both!
Tell us something no interviewer has ever asked about you, but you wish they had? Sorry, I’ve got nothing for this one!
M: Well then, I’ll add this additional fun fact: According to the Detroit Free Press, American Girl donated $100,000 in books (No Ordinary Sound and Never Stop Singing) to the Detroit Public Library system. Kids can pick up a free copy of either book until the end of the year. They’re also donating $50,000 in cash for children’s programming and children’s area improvements, plus $25,000 in dolls!
To learn more about Denise Lewis Patrick, please visit her website. I’ll review the Melody doll in a separate blog post–stay tuned!
Inspired by Joyce Kilmer’s classic poem, Trees, and the shoe tree I discovered on my walk along Cleo Street Beach this morning. (Background mural by artist Lorey Shaw Hellige.)
It’s the height of tourist season, but on this cool, damp morning, the beach is almost empty. A marine layer hugs the coastline, blanketing everything in fog. I walk at the water’s edge, soothed by the lullaby of the drifting tide and a seagull’s muffled cries.
Gentle waves drift ashore–foamy crests on steely-gray water. I contemplate the ebbs and flows of my own life, and pull my loved ones close in my thoughts. It’s a primal urge, I think, this wanting to absorb with all our senses these “gifts from the sea.”
When the fog lifts, I scan the horizon with my camera. Could it be? At the furthest reach of my zoom lens–below the oceanfront mansions with floor-to-ceiling windows and expansive balconies–a herd of seals has taken up temporary residence on the craggy, offshore rocks.
A seagull flaps its wings frenetically, as if to say to the napping seal, “Wake up, sleepy head!!” But the seal just blinks really slow, rolls away from this annoyance, and goes about the business of being a mammal who loves nothing more than snoozing by the sea.
Meanwhile…another type of drama!
A jogger passes me, circles back to see what I’m filming. “You a tourist?” he asks.
“No…”
I must’ve looked puzzled, because he points to my camera.
“Oh, this. I always take it with me.”
Why? Because you never know when you might come upon a heart-shaped piece of sea glass, nestled into Mother Nature’s jewelry box. And who knows? You might also find yourself at the threshold of something new –deeply satisfying but wholly unexpected.
For Part II of my video shoot (sounds of the sea, seagulls & seals), click here.
If you’re not one for pomp and pageantry, here’s an Opening Night alternative: Synchronized Swimming, a 1984 “rockumentary,” in which two brothers (Harry Shearer and Martin Short) train together as Olympic hopefuls for the synchronized swimming event.
[wpvideo nwJ0fYJL]
Fun fact: Synchronized swimming competitions date back to 1891 Germany. Back then, they called it water ballet. It didn’t become an officially sanctioned Olympic event until mere weeks before the 1984 Los Angeles Games–and even then, only women could compete. #CrawlStrokeThroughHistory
Sunlight spreads itself across the neighboring hillsides, nudging the earth out of its slumber. A hummingbird glides easily between palm dates and salvia, chittering as it sips nectar, and I celebrate with her the sweetness of this new day.
This is my first entry in the monthlong, collaborative photography project, “August Break 2016,” a mindfulness activity that draws participants away from their daily routines and into the wider world. Inspired by a specific prompt, you snap a new photograph every day in August. No need for fancy equipment, and you can bend the rules to suit your needs or interests.
I’m using Susannah Conway’s #AugustBreak2016 as an opportunity to practice something I’ve struggled with: capturing sharp images of hummingbirds in flight. I’ll also be spending lots of time at my writing desk, polishing up a special project. Each creative act, inspiring and informing the other…
Some of you might remember that I participated last year. Aside from the healthful benefits of venturing outdoors, those photography outings had carry-over effects on my writing, all for the good. Focus. Experimenting with light and dark. Seeing things from different angles, and expressing myself in new ways.
If this sparks your own creative urges, I hope you’ll grab your camera and join us!
The preacher’s wife rose from her pew one Sunday, said God revealed to her in a dream that an invading “army from the North” would soon overtake America. Russian soldiers would slaughter all the Christians, she warned.
“Come, build with me a ‘city of refuge.'” That’s what my Nana’s pastor said. (For more about Eden City, follow this link.)
I’ve always found a quiet comfort in the 23rd Psalm, memorized in Vacation Bible School and carried into adulthood like a glowing candle.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…
The imagery is beautiful, at once joyful and serene. To my ears, the King James version is especially lyrical, probably because it’s what I grew up hearing. In troubled times, we look for the light, seek the familiar.
That’s not to say that I don’t appreciate other translations. In fact, someone recently posted a modernized version to social media:
…He prepares refreshment and renewal in the midst of my activity by anointing my mind with oils of tranquility. My cup of joyous energy overflows…
Written in the mid-1960s by a Japanese woman named Taki Miyashina, it felt to me like an affirmation–as refreshing as sea spray, calming as the ocean’s lullaby.
I sent it on to a special friend, who responded in a flash: “Very pretty word pictures that sound a little new age-ish to me. For me, it doesn’t fulfill the original meaning.”
Well, that ruffled my feathers, I’ll tell you what!
I pushed back on what felt to me like a purity test. We made nice, of course, and I’m sorry now that I didn’t respond more graciously in the moment.
And yet…
I don’t think it’s for any one person to say, “This is the only way to write something, now and for all time.” Our ears aren’t always attuned to the same sounds and rhythms. Cultures vary; times change; vantage points differ. That any text should be considered inerrant, infallible, and indelible…that’s what I grew up hearing, but it’s always rung false to me.
That experience came to mind again this morning.
For the whole I’ve my life, I’ve believed that “Change is gonna come.” But after yet another night of senseless violence, that promise seems further from reality than it has for decades.
Several of my writer friends posted like-minded messages to Facebook: “I have no words,” they said, though many found their voices in the conversations that followed.
I echoed their sentiments; added emoticons and cryptic hashtags, marveling all the while about the new-fangled ways in which we now express these age-old sorrows.
I don’t know why my mind works this way, but a Bible story came to mind. (Do we ever really outgrow the lessons we learned in Sunday School?)
Forgive me if I leave out any key details, but as I recall, the basic storyline goes something like this:
After they’d wandered through the wilderness for 40 long years, God told Joshua to march the Israelites around the walls of Jericho–seven long days, in absolute silence, after which they’d blare their horns and shout. To his weary, disgruntled charges (After all this time, you’re making us wait?), this edict must’ve seemed an outrage. Maybe, too, they questioned Joshua’s judgment. But that silent marching was, in fact, a blessing in disguise. It forced the Israelites to quiet their minds. Little by little, they turned their gaze in the same direction. Their footfalls settled into a synchronous rhythm. Their spines straightened, bolstered as they were by the shared belief that they’d soon find themselves in the Promised Land, which lay on the other side of those formidable walls. And on the seventh day, so the story goes, the rabbis blew their horns and everyone shouted, loudly and in unison. And just as God promised, those walls came crashing down.
I’ll leave it to scholars to argue the historical accuracy of this story, and maybe its religious significance. You might have a bone to pick with me for the way I’ve told it. But for today, I’m just ruminating on the value of getting quiet–especially during these dark nights and difficult days–and drawing from our collective stories whatever courage and comfort we might find there.
Once upon a time–about a month ago–I spied this notice on my Facebook feed:
I fell hard and fast for that sweet little horse! It bore the markings of a child’s love–memories etched into the wood by its former owner. I suspected that my little friend Sara would love it, too.
Really quick, before Susie could change her mind, we hopped in my roadster and headed up to Once Upon A Storybook. We browsed the bookshelves, paid for our selections, and then ferried the horse toward greener pastures.
Now what?
We stopped for frozen yogurt and allowed our imaginations free rein. And that’s how we eventually decided we’d transform the humble little horse into a fanciful pony, beribboned and bedazzled and rarin’ to go.
I should probably mention here that Sara and I knew nothing about repurposing wooden toys, much less the finer points of rocking horses.
But we’re resourceful!
We asked questions at Michaels and called upon our craftier friends. I also collected tips from the Internet, all of which I pinned to a special Rocking Horse Pinterest board.
And then we got to work.
First we scuffed the yellowed varnish with sandpaper. Two shiny-white layers of spray paint later, I realized I’d made a mistake.
We wanted to suggest a textured history, infused with special memories. Glossy paint just wouldn’t do! So I roughed it up again, and then slicked on some random patches of acrylic, willy-nilly. When I sanded the horse one final time (using fine-grade sandpaper and a feathery light touch), the original wood stain came peeking through. It looks like it’s had a storied past, now…just as we’d imagined.
Sara chose a Palomino-colored yarn for the mane and tail. It’s soft and twisty, like loosened braids.
While those marble eyes were cute, they had definitely seen their heyday. So we searched high and low for something different–something that suggested a wide-eyed sense of wonderment. To the rescue: my friend Donna, who shipped us some google eyes and false lashes.
I bought rope-like trim for the bridle, and retrieved a pair of earrings from the dark recesses of my jewelry box. I affixed both with E6000 glue, held in place with gardening tape.
While the glue was drying, we clipped images from discarded picture books and decoupaged them to the seat.
Once upon a storybook…Come, take a magical ride!
Next we stapled the mane and tail into place, and beautified everything with ribbons and bows. (Many thanks to my friend Sheri, who showed me how to stitch the yarn into place. I pinned her diagram to my Pinterest page.)
Voilà, bigger, brighter eyes! And more bedazzling, just because.
Finis, once we’ve tame the mane and clip a few threads!
We buckled our pony into my roadster this morning…
ferried it up to Once Upon a Storybook, and put it through its paces. Pictured here: that happy reunion, the stuff of lasting memories.
This horse will enjoy a happily-ever-after life at Chez Shore, where kids of all ages can enjoy it. Perhaps it’ll also make an occasional appearance at Susie’s bookstore. So you know: We’re now scouring Craigslist and yard sales, in search of a rocking horse for Sara’s stable. She tells me she wants a dappled pony, purple and pink, and plans to decorate it with hearts and flowers. She also mentioned butterflies in passing, and fairies. But who knows, she’ll likely change her mind a million times, before all is said and done. That’s the cool thing about my adventures with Sara: The possibilities are endless, same as our friendship.
Treat yourself, why don’t you, to our hummingbird hatchlings’ pre-fledge antics. Watch as Rain helicopters above the nest, hovers mid-flight, and manages a graceful landing on a twig beside the nest. Beau’s feathers get ruffled, but he looks on with rapt attention. Aryana chirps in the distance, as if to say, “Come into the garden, kids–let’s play!”
Not long after I filmed their playtime, Rain zipped off to join Aryana in the flowerbeds. Beau surfed the ocean breezes, hanging ten on the rim of the roomier nest.
See the shadowy “beard” on Beau’s chin? That’s a simple way to differentiate a juvenile hummingbird male from its female counterparts. Rain has white-tipped tail feathers, instead.
I revisited the nest before dinnertime, and voilà!
The nest is empty now, but my heart is full. I’m grateful for Aryana’s mothering instincts; thankful, too, for the fuchsia that camouflaged and provided shelter for three successful broods.
I also appreciate everyone who gathered around Aryana’s nest with me, watching her tiny eggs crack open, revealing featherless hatchlings that grew overnight, it seemed, eventually sprouted gossamer wings and needle-shaped beaks.
And yes, I’m glad for this schoolbus-yellow ladder. I’ve climbed it again and again with my camera, over the past several months…
…receiving firsthand the gifts that come of observing up close those tiny jewels of the sky.
Rainbows, flights of fancy, shimmery magic, and Mother Nature’s sensibilities: I’m grateful for this embroidered tapestry, stitched on my heart by a charm of hummingbirds. You, too?
